


here comes the bride

by queerwatson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerwatson/pseuds/queerwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Sherlock took a case in Vegas, and took a night to celebrate its completion. The morning after, Jane wakes and finds a ring on her finger. Of course she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	here comes the bride

**Author's Note:**

> Today's trope: accidental marriage!! I'm very excited about it.

Jane woke up because she was too warm. That was the first thing she noticed. She assumed that it was the thick comforter over her legs. Upon sitting up, though, and throwing off the covers, she heard a murmur from beside her, and looked over. 

The mop of curly hair sticking out from the blankets beside her was one she’d know anywhere. Sherlock was in her bed. 

The other bed in the room, which she could see just behind Sherlock, was empty.

Right. They were in a hotel room. In America. In Nevada. For a case. Jane had never been to America, so she’d wanted to take it, and Sherlock had agreed. They’d solved it the night before and then Jane had talked Sherlock into celebrating.

This thought process didn’t actually take very long, because Jane felt absolutely disgusting. She was nauseous, headachey, and her mouth tasted like something had died in it. They’d certainly been celebrating. And in fact, considering the lapses in Jane’s memory, they’d celebrated far too much. What she got for drinking with Sherlock for the first time without being aware of Sherlock’s tolerance, probably.

Getting out of bed, she was comforted to find her clothes were still on - and her eyelashes were sticking in a way that meant she’d slept in makeup. She stumbled to the bathroom, and grabbed one of the plastic cups and got some tap water. She drank it, blindly fumbled for a flannel, and put that under the tap as well. It was only after wiping her face a bit that she finally caught sight of a glint in the mirror. She looked down. There was a ring on her finger.

A gold ring. It looked like a wedding ring. Why was there a wedding ring?

She slipped it off her finger and realized it had the heavy weight of real metal. Not fake, then. Or at least an elaborate fake. Her brow furrowed. Confusion and the fact that she still felt disgusting far outweighed any sense of alarm she might have felt on any other day.

Instead of panicking, she started brushing her teeth, and then leaned out of the bathroom to look at Sherlock - who had lifted her head up from the covers slightly, peeking out.

“Sherlock.”

“Mm.”

“Do you have a wedding ring on?”

There was a pause. Jane went back into the bathroom, rinsed out her mouth, and before she could stick her head back out, heard a very quiet, “Oh no.”

That was enough to make her get out of the bathroom. But all she saw was Sherlock, still sleep ruffled, staring at her own hand, where there was a matching wedding band. 

“What is it?”

Looking a little stricken, Sherlock turned to Jane. “You don’t remember?”

She tried to think back, but all Jane really remembered was a lot of drinking, and leaning on Sherlock, and giggling. “No, I guess not. I’m guessing we decided it’d be good for a case or a cover - or someone was bothering us at the bar or something and we wanted to get them to fuck off.”

Moving quickly, as if she’d suddenly remembered something, Sherlock dove off the bed to pull something from her bag. When she sat back up, slowly, she looked as if she regretted the quick movement. She held whatever it was out to Jane, and Jane held up a finger, going to get some acetaminophen and bringing it and the glass of water to Sherlock. They traded items, Jane taking the paper, and it still took  a moment for her to process what she held.

It was a marriage certificate.

“Oh.”

Certain blurry images passed through her mind then - dresses and flowers and an office and vague impressions of a chapel.

Right. Bad. This was bad. She tried very hard not to look pleased or amused.

She failed, and started to chuckle.

Bringing a hand to her own face, Jane tried to stifle the laughter trying to escape, but she still found Sherlock looking at her in bewilderment.

“Are you laughing?”

Still biting her lip and chuckling a bit, Jane handed Sherlock back the paper. “Just. Well. Just a bit. It’s just absolutely incredible that we have one drunken night and we end up married in Vegas. It’s like something out of a romcom - which. God. People are really going to have a field day over this if they find out. Think we said anything?”

Sherlock gave a dismissive hum, and pulled her phone from the bedside table to start poking at it. Apparently she was going to have a sulk because Jane decided have a sense of humour about the situation.

Figured.

Getting her laptop from beside the bed, Jane opened it, and found her blog was still up. 

She’d made a single post the night before. A link.

A link to a livestream.

She clicked to see the comments on the post, and found lots of incredulity and well-wishes.

She also found a link to a youtube video, which the user said they provided just in case Jane and Sherlock hadn’t recorded it themselves. 

“Oh no.”

Sherlock looked over, then, and leaned against Jane a bit to see the screen. When she clicked the link, it took her to exactly what she’d feared.

A recording of a livestream of her and Sherlock getting married. At the Gay Chapel of Las Vegas. Titled ‘Sherlock Holmes and Live-In Partner Jane Watson Get Married!!!’ It had more views than Jane could parse out the zeros for this early in the day. Her computer had been muted, and Jane paused the video without really looking at it, suddenly feeling the less amusing side effects of her accidental marriage.

“Everyone’s seen this.” She felt Sherlock tense a little, and Jane closed her eyes, turned her head, and leaned against Sherlock’s shoulder. It only made her friend tense more, but she wasn’t sure she could pull away just then. “Sorry. I just. I’m sort of processing the issues with this now. And. We’re married, apparently. So. I don’t think it’s unreasonable that I at least get a cuddle in my time of need.”

Sighing, Sherlock hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders, less like she didn’t want to, and more like she wasn’t sure what she was doing.

“I don’t mean...” Jane lifted her head up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you’re obligated. And you don’t even... That was... Never mind.” She shifted away from Sherlock, let her arm fall, and tried to duck her head to hide her embarrassed flush. Sherlock didn’t do that. Even if they were married. In fact, thinking of that again, Jane’s confusion only grew, and twisted into distress, thinking of how much she had wanted this, or something like it, plenty of times. Just not this way. “Why did we get married? Which of us thought that was a good idea?" 

There was a moment of silence.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I remember booking the wedding, getting the certificate, I remember bits of the wedding itself. I don’t remember who originally had the idea. Unfortunately.”

Licking her lips, Jane glanced over and saw that Sherlock looked as awkward as she did. Of course she did.

“Should we watch the video?” Jane asked, looking back at her laptop screen, finally. 

She heard Sherlock hum again, and Jane leaned forward and clicked, turning up her volume. Trying not to make an idiot of herself, she put her hands in her lap and bit her lip.

Jane had absolutely planned to remain silent, and not think too much about it, but as she watched the video, watched herself walk down the aisle in a surprisingly elaborate dress, she started to remember things. Her brow furrowed, and she glanced over at Sherlock.

“Did we have a... a fairytale themed wedding?” 

She noticed that Sherlock was blushing a little.

“You wanted it to be pretty. It came with costumes. And it was the most elaborate one. I thought it should be nice, you wanted it to be nice. Since you said you might never get married again.” 

Parts of this, Jane could remember, and she looked back at the screen before she said something stupid. Unfortunately this only had the effect of her seeing herself and Sherlock, flushed, grinning at each other like there was some kind of inside joke, standing together, holding hands. It was beautiful. Jane paused it again, and pulled her laptop closer. “Right, I think that’s enough. I think we both at least remember the ceremony now.”

Blushing to the tips of her ears, and feeling a little miserable, Jane hovered over the option to delete the post from her blog, then sighed and put her head in her hands instead. What difference did it make? Everyone already knew, surely. And everyone would think they’d been together the whole time, when the truth was that they weren’t even together now.

She’d been fully planning to continue moping when she felt the laptop removed from her lap, and Sherlock pulled her into a hug. For a moment, she tensed, but then she relaxed, dropping her hands and pressing her face against Sherlock’s shoulder, hugging her back. “It’s. I mean it looks like we had fun. I remember having fun. I just. I just don’t wanna deal with the fallout. We’re gonna go back, and everyone’s going to make comments about how they knew it all along, I don’t know how to correct all those people. I mean - even if we got a divorce it wouldn’t change all that - the assumptions people make.”

Sherlock’s hand was moving gently over her back, and Jane enjoyed the moment of intimacy.

“We could get Mycroft to get rid of the video and annul the marriage - but you’re right that everyone at the Yard will have already seen it. Possibly even your sister, too.”

Again, Jane tensed, this time for an entirely different reason. “She’ll never let me hear the end of that. She’s been saying I was just a lesbian with a foot in the closet for years.”

Jane heard Sherlock scoff, and the arm around her tightened a little. That was nice.

“Your sister is ridiculous. You’re bisexual, it’s a perfectly valid orientation.”

“I know that, Sherlock.” Jane managed to smile a bit, and she shifted enough to look at Sherlock. She blinked, then, though, and frowned. “I just hate that I’m probably not wrong about never getting married again, and we did the whole bloody thing drunk.”

Sherlock looked surprised. “You really don’t think you’ll get married again?”

Letting out a short, harsh laugh, Jane shook her head and hid her face against Sherlock’s collarbone again. “To who? The line of suitors going down Baker Street? I haven’t had much luck. Which is fine, really, I mean. Our work’s not really suited to me being in a serious relationship. I’m okay with that at this point I think. I just. I keep going through the cycle of wanting to be close to someone and dating for the little stuff, affection and romance, and then it doesn’t work out, and I just get so tired of it all.”

“Well. Ah.” Sherlock sounded hesitant, and there was a long moment of silence. “Obviously you’re always welcome to stay with me. In fact, you have now technically legally vowed to stay with me until we’re both dead. So.”

Jane laughed, at Sherlock’s phrasing, really, and held her tighter. “Maybe I’ll just follow through on that, then. I mean. Fuck it, right? You and me, platonically ever after. Nothing bad about that.” 

There was another stretch of silence, and this time it made Jane concerned she’d said something wrong. She lifted her head, and found Sherlock blushing, looking like she wanted to say something. Jane tilted her head.

“Well. Just. We did kiss last night, Jane. I mean we were getting married after all. So it’s not... technically necessarily platonic.” 

Sherlock’s stilted phrasing caught Jane off-guard - as did the sort of implication of saying their relationship wasn’t necessarily platonic. “What happened to all the stuff you’ve said about caring and sentiment and relationships? And being married to your work?”

“I’m married to you,” Sherlock replied immediately, and Jane smiled, and laughed a bit. “Also,” Sherlock continued, “I wasn’t... It isn’t as easy to distance myself from all that as I would like.”

Licking her lips, Jane kept herself from swaying forward a little. “So what does all that mean, then? If you’re married to me, not your work...” Jane let one hand trace the collar of Sherlock’s sleep shirt, gently. “And you didn’t mean most of that stuff... Does that mean we’re married married? Not just accidentally platonically married?”

Sherlock blushed, deeply, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jane had ever seen. “I... wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Leaning forward, Jane gently pressed her lips to Sherlock’s, and kissed her slowly. Sherlock made a quiet little sound, and Jane shivered. Perfect.

She broke the kiss, and pulled back, and used a hand to push Sherlock’s curls back from her face. “Right. Okay. I really do wish I knew which one of us proposed now, just so I could know who had the great idea. Because this is... I am... really happy.”

Sherlock smiled at her, and kissed her again, a quick energetic peck, a kiss that happened just because it could.

“I really don’t remember. At all. But I don’t think it matters. Both of us thought it was a good idea. We can have a non-drunken renewal of our vows at some point, and it’ll be wonderful, and in the meantime we’ll be legally married. Makes all sorts of legal things easier next time one of us gets hurt.”

Snorting, Jane pinched Sherlock’s side and leaned forward to cuddle close to her again. They didn’t have anywhere to be yet, and Jane was determined to keep this moment going as long as possible. “Don’t start talking about injuries. You’ll jinx us. Just hush, and keep up the cuddling." 

With her face against Sherlock’s neck this time, Jane could feel the twitch of muscle that she knew was probably a smirk.

“Yes, dear.”


End file.
